


Fights

by CyrahX



Series: The many stages of Jay and Dick's very special relationship [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Angst and Feels, Arguing, Based on a Skillet Song, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Makeup, Relationship Problems, Trust Issues, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5696530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrahX/pseuds/CyrahX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In three years of marriage, there have to be hard times. Some are easy to withstand, some aren't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fights

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to "Believe" by Skillet when I wrote this. Those who know the song will find some of its lines here~

"You can't be serious!" 

"Fuck you, Dick!" 

"How about I fuck someone else instead?!" 

"We fucking talked about this, asshole! How many times do you wanna have that conversation?!" 

"How many times do _you_ want to have _this_ one?!" 

"I knew you wouldn’t get it! I'm outta here!" 

"Right! Just walk away when nothing's resolved!" 

"You mean like you always do?! Leave whenever things get tough?! Sometimes I wonder what on earth made me marry you! I’m better off _without_ you!" 

Then he was gone. 

As much as Jay and Dick's marriage could be the most beautiful and amazing thing in the world, it could also be what broke them most. It always felt like breaking a piece of themselves when the two of them fought. Not the small fights about being annoying or little jealousy attacks that would end in hot, sweaty and possessive jealousy-sex. 

These were the real fights, the days in which they would hurt each other so bad on purpose, no matter the reason. Days in which they would bring up old memories that were better forgotten, days in which they would reopen old wounds that had seemed to have healed long ago. The triggers for the horrible things the two would say either were exes (those would be Dick's) or the family, better said Bruce (he'd be Jason's biggest trigger). 

Whether Dick talked too much about one of his friends (and ex) or looked at them a moment too long for Jason's liking. Whether Dick's public display of affection towards his friends (and exes) went beyond the hugging or they obviously hit on him the whole fucking time, trying to lay him, and he just wouldn't fucking get it. Then there were the times in which Dick would constantly prattle about Bruce. Bruce is the best here, Bruce is so awesome there. Bruce is so hot, I so wanted him to bend me over the Batmobile and fuck me. Bruce Bruce Bruce, all Dick ever fucking talked about was Bruce! And how angry he'd get if Jason told him to shut his mouth about that, because he couldn't give less fucks about his wet teenage dreams. It wasn't just in his teen ages, Dick would say, and that was it. 

That had led to them fighting again, and when they fought over something, they automatically shouted out everything that bothered them; and then they were fighting about their whole relationship. In this case, Dick also provoked him by mentioning what Jason always imputed him to do when he was jealous: that he would love to fuck everyone who hit on him, including Bruce. 

Jason left before he would say or do something he'd really regret. 

He could only think of one thing to do. Like always when they fought seriously, Jason headed for the garage outside and entered it with fast and heavy steps. He opened it and pulled on the big synthetic cloth that covered the ticket to his freedom and to a clearer head: his bike, his baby. 

He loved it like nothing else, his bike would never hurt him like that. 

Jason just drove, faster than he was allowed to, drove even when it started raining, let the severe rain lash his exposed skin, let the wind and freedom clear his mind from thoughts of just leaving. How many times had Jason stopped before the highway, intending to head for the other side of the world, how many times did he run back to Dick instead. 

He couldn't leave him. Not without telling him face to face, not before kissing him one last time. Never before saying goodbye to the first and surely last person he had and would ever love. 

Jason drove back to Gotham to patrol that night. He avoided Nightwing’s territory on purpose. Normally they would meet up and patrol together, but tonight he wanted to be on his own. Tonight he would break skulls, he told himself. 

He fought a lot, he was brutal. He fired more rounds than he usually would, he had also taken more with him than usually. Red Hood shot kneecaps, shoulders, hands, thighs. He was close to shooting the drug dealer and rapist scum in the head, but something inside of him stopped him. Instead he did more than incapacitate them. Lots of things he didn’t need to do, and especially lots of things that hurt and bled like a motherfucker. Jason needed something to distract himself from the fact that he was again thinking about ending this all, of never seeing Dick again, because everything that concerned him made Jason weak, and weakness would kill him and the Red Hood soon. 

Loving Dick was dangerous for him. Dick would be what killed him. 

He was the poison running through Jason’s veins for six years, he was everywhere, it was impossible to escape him. Especially in Jason’s head, because how could he forget the one person who banished his darkest shadows with his light, who reached out his hand to pull Jason out of the hole he had been dragged and pushed into, at risk of being pulled down himself? 

How could Jason forget about the only thing that was worth living for, that kept him alive? 

Just how could he? 

Meanwhile, Dick had other plans. He canceled patrol for the night, he never patrolled if he was unfocused; and a terrifying fight that threatened to destroy his marriage made him more than unfocused. 

He had decided to take a break in those cases; due to a past situation when he wanted to cope with crime fighting and got badly injured because of his recklessness. 

Dick still felt the ache in his lumbar spine sometimes. 

Instead he spent his time at his training ground where he burned off energy, trained on the trapeze, ran on thin bars, did as many doubled or tripled backflips as he could. Stretched every muscle as best as he could. 

Dick was sad. He felt so depressed about this outcome; he couldn't handle their fights if they were serious like this. He'd just have to distract himself to not start to cry, so Dick did anything but think about it. Well, at least that was his plan. 

It didn't work like he wanted though, and Dick had nothing to distract himself with anymore as he was kneeling in front of the mirror in the training ground, no power left to spend. 

He went home, not expecting Jason there at all. And he was right with that. He always left when things heated up; eleven days in a row were his high score. 

Dick cooked for him anyway. 

Then, in times like those, he also got very aware of the things that missed in their household, things that needed to be fixed or cleaned, or things that he always wanted to do but never did because he rather spent his time with his husband. Dick was a very clingy person, especially since he married. That was the reason this whole situation got to him every single time. He didn't experience good concerning (almost-)marriages in his past. 

He was afraid he'd fail the person he loved most on this level, just like he did with Barbara and Kori. Only was this worse, not only because it was Jason, but because they already had married. 

After two days, Jason came back. 

It was at night when Jason climbed in through the window of their bedroom. Dick had already been lying on their bed and pretended to sleep, because he knew his husband and he knew that he was uncomfortable and wanted to avoid him when he came in through the window. 

He heard Jason's boots and knew he was coming closer, but instead of moving to the direction the door was at, he walked over to the preliminarily sleeping Dick, and went still. He was watching Dick. After a while Dick felt his cold fingers stroke a streak of hair out of his face and behind his ear. Then a deep sigh, and he kissed his temple, long and gently. Jason's hand remained on his head a moment longer before slowly sliding off it, and leaving Dick in their bed. 

Jason slept in the guest room. 

He didn't want to bother Dick when he woke up; he knew that Dick needed space when they fought. 

But whenever he went to sleep in that room, he could do anything but forget. He just lay in that bed, staring at the blue walls that always reminded him of their discussion about the coloring. How Dick told him that the color should help him cool down whenever he 'had' to sleep there. It really helped, not because of the color itself, but because of the memories he connected to that conversation. It was the memories of their happiest times, when they realized they were ready for a serious, mature relationship. 

It didn't want to get into Jason's head why they had to fight now where they were official. Bruce would probably say ‘Told you’, Jason thought bitterly, and went to sleep. 

The next day he didn't greet, let alone kiss Dick. He was still mad and the awake Dick was a lot more annoying than the sleeping one. Again Jason did anything but interact with him. He was in their bedroom, sitting at his desk where he neatly worked on his weapons. He cleaned them, oiled them, polished them, tuned them. 

He took a look at the first gun he had used; it was his favorite. It was the one with the barrel Dick had engraved "JD" on, to remind him that there was someone waiting for him and he should be careful. It should also remind him of why he shouldn't kill. 

Yep, forgetting Dick didn't go well at all. 

Especially because the man was making hell lots of noises, because he discovered they needed more bookshelves and was playing DIYer in their living room. It wasn't like he had already installed bookshelves in their bedroom yesterday. 

Jason sighed. That was when he decided that he didn't want this. 

He didn't want to fight anymore, he didn't want to distract himself from the problem he had yet to solve. So he got up and walked into the living room, only to see a flustered Dick cursing at the bookshelf that had come to be crooked. He removed the screws with force what caused ugly holes in the wall, and a bleeding finger. He cursed again. 

Dick noticed Jason and turned to look at him for a moment, before intending to turn his attention to the bookshelf again, but Jason grabbed him by his wounded hand and pulled him close for a hug. 

"Jay?" Dick asked, and suddenly started to tremble. 

"I'm sorry," Jason whispered and buried his hand into his lover's hair to press his head against his shoulder. 

"Why?" Dick asked much louder, and Jason recognized it as his crying voice. So he pulled away just so much that he could look into his husband's eyes and softly wipe those ugly tears away. 

“’Cause I know I’m blind when we don’t agree, and –“ 

"No! _I_ should be the one apologizing, Jay. And still you come to me first. _I_ fucked up." 

"It's okay, Dickie." 

"It's not! All I ever do is fuck up. Fuck." More tears escaped those beautiful, yet so sad eyes. Maybe he did fuck up, but Jason couldn't see him like this. 

"Would you stop crying now, or do you want me to cry too? 'Cause I'll sure as hell do if you look at me with your sad puppy eyes." 

"I'm so sorry, Jay. I didn't want to hurt you." 

"Shh. We both said and did things we didn’t mean and I can’t undo the things that led us to this place. But I know that you wouldn't cheat on me, and that you don't mean to make me jealous or anything. It's just that feeling I got sometimes, I get irrational and believe anything I wanna believe at that moment. Sometimes I _wanna_ get angry at you even if you didn't do anything. You should know me by now. It's just me, _I'm_ the fucked up here, alright?" 

Dick kept looking at him with those watery eyes. 

"Sometimes you make me feel worthless," Dick said then, and that stung. "When you tell me you don't need me, that you wouldn’t even think about me. That I'm only good for one thing." 

"If you really believed when I said I wouldn’t need you, I wouldn’t care, I wouldn’t be thinking about you, you never really knew me at all, Dickie." Jason’s voice started to tremble too, "You're all that I want, I told you that when I asked you to marry me. I need you. I need you every day and I'll need you forever, Dick. I wouldn't be here anymore if it wasn't for you. And I wouldn't want to, either. Do you really think so little of me?" 

“You’re all that I want too, Jay, I couldn’t fill that emptiness inside when you were gone. I never could. But this – this is not healthy. I’m not good for you, I – You deserve someone who really understands you, and you need someone who-“ 

“No!” Jason cut in loudly. He looked at his husband, his eyes piercing through him. “Is that the start of a break up line? No. No, I don’t want that! And I don’t care if you’re not good for me, because if that’s true, what am I for you then? A curse. You’re not gonna leave me, Dick! You’re all I need, okay? Just tell me that you still believe in us, that we can get through this like we did so many times! Tell me, Dick!” Jason was shaking him by now. He wanted to wake him from that state he was in; Jason wanted to get Dick out of the self-pity train. He noticed a heavy tremble, and then noticed that it didn’t come from Dick, no. It was Jason who couldn’t stop trembling now. It was him who felt like punching someone, and that someone would be himself. 

“I do,” Dick whispered after a short while, his voice cracking. “I do believe in us. If you do, then I have no doubts about us continuing to hold on. But I don’t want you to cling to that relationship just because we’re married. I want you to be happy, Jay, and if you’re happy with someone else-“ 

“God, shut the fuck up,” Jason whispered, exhausted, and took Dick in his arms once again, burying his face into his hair. “I believe that there’s so much more to us than our mistakes. That we’re meant to withstand hard times together, that we’re fucking meant to be. Don’t you ever question that again or I also believe I’ll have to knock some sense into you.” 

He held him tightly, not intending to let go anytime soon. 

Not intending to let go of him ever. 

“I believe.”


End file.
